I rage because my nature makes me rage when such things are called to be. How could I do otherwise? I am told that I am nothing, that I deserve death just for my pleasures and my feelings. My natural lusts for the opposite sex, my love for food, and my very carnal nature, even my love for my own family and friends are supposed to be subdued. I am supposed to cast off my appetites, my dreams and aspirations, and destroy myself to become a little fleck of white light.

    All glory to the dusty tomes, of dubious origin, wherein absurdities abound. All enjoin an endless debate with the faitful, as they pray for me and hope I see The Truth. All Glory the God who hides and coyly flirts with my guilt, who sits on a thunderhead and mocks my quest for purpose. In place of a purpose I am a pleasure, a sex toy for a demanding creator, who hates me. He demands that I subdue all of myself for Him. Why does He play games with me? My father, the one I can plainly see that raised me and toiled that I would be able to grow, I am commanded that he will burn in Hell for his unwillingness to beleive in middle eastern dogma. He created us, and he can and will torture most of us for eternity.

    My Christian friends tell me the road to heaven is narrow and to Hell is wide, and that in Heaven I will be with God and I will not want to see my heathen father, mother, family, and friends ever again. They tell me that in time I will come to understand why God is justified in eternally torturing us poor confused humans.

    God places me here and hides behind riddles, hardens the hearts of we who are cursed to live in a world of sin and imperfection. Look, but don't touch. Touch, but don't taste. Taste, but don't swallow. Taunt us, chide us, rub us, torment us. One mistake is all it takes, the wrong religion will land you in the flaming lake. Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, hate they father and mother. Oh Christian friend, why bother to comfort and speak with me? Why play our fine friendly games and enjoin me, while worshipping a God that made me only for ruin?

    How can sanity abide such a place? Mark Twain burning in hell while Jerry Falwell is in heaven. Anne Frank is burning in hell as we speak, the poor child! Those starving kids they show on the Save the Children foundation? Heathens! Hell for them!

    As I contemplate the face of God, I begin to wonder if the Christian God might not be the real God. My heart sinks when pondering the Christian God. I cannot love this God, for he hates me. I cannot meet the Father for he hates my father. What reason have I to love this God, for surely I have already earned my seat in Hell.

    As a testament I see the Universalists, and the Liberal Christians. The divorced adulterers, the holy fornicators. It would count as a miracle if there were a dozen people in heaven once this mess is sorted out.

Whenever a Christian tells me I'm going to hell I simply say "Good! I'd rather go there than a place where I spend eternity playing a harp next to Benny Hinn."

How can sanity abide such a place? Mark Twain burning in hell while Jerry Falwell is in heaven. Anne Frank is burning in hell as we speak, the poor child! Those starving kids they show on the Save the Children foundation? Heathens! Hell for them!

Well, what can I say? I think Thomas Jefferson said it best when he called the Christian God a three-headed monster.

As I contemplate the face of God, I begin to wonder if the Christian God might not be the real God. My heart sinks when pondering the Christian God. I cannot love this God, for he hates me. I cannot meet the Father for he hates my father. What reason have I to love this God, for surely I have already earned my seat in Hell.

Well, there is no more evidence for the Christian God than the other ten-thousand or so gods out there. If what you're thinking is that there is just some generic god out there then I'd highly reccomend deism. You might want to check out the Deus Project/United Deist Church and the World Union of Deists websites.